


Slippery Sidewalks

by Eflauta



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: AU, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 08:40:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13498510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eflauta/pseuds/Eflauta
Summary: The world went up, he went down, and his feet went out from under him. Strong arms wrapped around his chest and he found himself looking up at the sky and the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.





	Slippery Sidewalks

On a warm, disgusting San Francisco day Paul Stamets rushed across the damn city under the cover of a dark and rainy sky. He was drenched head to toe, and his glasses too blurry to see through. To top it off, he was late for lab.

He’d just gotten out of class when he realized that he still had to speak with a professor two floors up, and by the time that discussion was over it was less than 10 minutes until a crucial test would complete. The lab was a 20 minute walk from his class, and with the traffic at that hour it would have actually been slower to take the bus.

So he broke off in a panicked run, dashing through the remainder of the building, past the glass doors, and straight into the pouring rain. The only thing he could think about was how _ruined_ his experiment was going to be, and how he’d spent the last 3 weeks carefully, painstakingly setting it up.

Puddles splashed mud up the sides of his slacks as he hurled himself forward, feet pounding against the pavement but somehow squelching in his shoes. It was easy to dodge the pedestrians, and a little harder to dodge the branches, and he was really glad for the crosswalks because the cars had stopped and he picked up speed and-

All in the same moment, a couple of things happened. The world went up, he went down, and his feet went out from under him. Strong arms wrapped around his chest and he found himself looking up at the sky and the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.

 

“You ok?”

The world rushed back to him in an instant and he managed to blurt “Shit. FUCK. I'm late."

And with that he sprinted off.

-

Hugh watched as the man nearly leapt from his arms like he’d been stung, and ran down the street at a breathtaking sprint. Or at least he assumed it was. The guy was gone before he’d even had a chance to introduce himself. Whatever it was that he was late for, it had to be important.

The weight of the guy still lingering on his arms, Hugh looked down at the still-crowded crosswalk and noticed a StarFleet issue com lying on the ground. He picked it up from the growing puddle and turned to see if he could maybe catch up and give it back, but whoever it was had run so fast he was completely out of sight.

Getting out of the road, he flicked it open just in time to see the screen glitch and flicker. It shut off almost completely and he let the screen cover fall shut. Maybe once he got home and out of the rain, he could get it in some rice.

After all, how else was he going to get it back to the random guy he’d just French dipped?

\-------

It was early, and San Francisco was covered in frost. Hugh had the Alpha shift and while he didn’t have to be at the hospital as early as he usually did, it still meant he had to leave before dawn. It was mornings like this that he missed Puerto Rico, with all its warmth and sunshine.

Delaying the inevitable, he took the time to wind a scarf around his neck and put on a hat before he grabbed his heavy coat and went out the door.

The sidewalks were slick with glass like ice, broken only by the scatterings of salt and sand that never seemed to be where he needed them. It was like the world’s worst game of hopscotch, on his way to work.

The roads at least looked clear, which was a relief. He needed every second he could get, jogging across the road, eyes up, stride long. For a fleeting second the sharp air on his face felt _good_.

And then all at once felt his feet slip out from under him in a sharp, involuntary slide as he hit a slick patch of thin, black ice.

His whole bulk flung crashing downwards and he cringed in anticipation of hard ice and rough pavement, and a scraped up cheek and he found…

A steady hand gripping his shoulder. An arm slipped under his own.  Another man countering his literal faux pas with unwavering determination and a good sense of balance.

 

“Thanks,” He said, working his way to steadier footing.

“No problem.” The guy had to pull him a little closer before Hugh could really get his feet under him, but he didn’t mind. Just like he didn’t really mind the brush of a hand along his shoulder, dusting it off.

 

“Why are you so bundled up?”

The blunt question took him off guard, and be belatedly noticed what the other man was wearing. Or wasn’t. But just as soon as he noticed the jeans and the t-shirt and the completely bare forearms, he saw the shockingly blond hair and defiantly blue eyes. He saw pale cheeks that had been flushed with exertion, and a balance that had nearly completely wiped out on slick pavement just a few months before.

 

“Why aren’t _you_ bundled up? It’s 30 degrees!”

“Exactly! That’s barely even coat weather, and I was running late, before _you_ came along.”

“Wait-“

“What?”

“Do you always run late?”

 _“No,”_ He defended.

“Really.” Hugh gave him a look.

“I’m sorry, Do we _know_ each other?” The guy retorted.

“Not yet - I’m Hugh.” He held out his hand with an easy smile.

The other guy looked at it like it had personally assigned him a math equation. But then something shifted, and he reciprocated and shook his hand.

“Paul.”

“Listen, let me give you my number. I’m late for work but- if you’d like…”

Paul still looked like he was trying to solve that equation, still looked like there was something just out of reach. But he handed over his PADD all the same.

With a bright smile, Hugh tapped his number in.

“You can text me when you haven’t frozen to death.” he said, handing it back.

Paul opened his mouth. And then closed it. Hugh got a very discerning look, Paul’s head cocked to the side. “I’m not the one who needed a coat.”

“I’m not the one who forgot mine”

“I didn’t _forget_ my coat.”

Hugh couldn’t help but smile at the rosy cheeked impudency that bloomed on Paul’s face. He had the terrible, abrupt urge to ask him out to coffee right then and there. It wouldn’t be hard to skip his shift, it would ruin his career but for a blinding moment it seemed utterly worth it.

 

Reality crashed with the sound of a shrill alarm. His PADD shrieked twice, letting him know that not only was he late, but that his bosses knew it.  

“I’m really sorry, I have to go-”

“Me too”

“Text me!”

 

And with that, Hugh walked off to work.

**Author's Note:**

> In which Paul is Montréalais and doesn't mind the cold.


End file.
